Meredith Kendall's Blog, page 16
August 3, 2016
Summer 2016
Hopewell Rocks, Salt Lake City, Bryce Canyon, Monument Valley, Taos Pueblo, Chebeague Island. Family & friends <3 Adventures, elevation, rocks.
also Reiki Retreat with Frans Stiene and fabulous Reiki practitioners, Integrative Medicine conference in Taos, hikes, beach, bike rides, concerts, feeling joyful & astonished, saying YES to everything...
also Reiki Retreat with Frans Stiene and fabulous Reiki practitioners, Integrative Medicine conference in Taos, hikes, beach, bike rides, concerts, feeling joyful & astonished, saying YES to everything...
August 1, 2016
Hot
Lately, when I share Reiki, I get so hot. I burn. Like I'm on fire.
Today students and I went to the local cancer infusion center to share Reiki with patients, family members, and staff. I helped the students get started, then went around to assist. I placed my hands on the patients and the students. The rooms were cool, patients bundled up in blankets, nurses scurrying around.
I got so hot. I stopped and felt cooler immediately.
One student got super hot too. Her face was red and sweaty. She said, "I never get hot. I'm always cold. My hands are always cold. I'm hot now. So hot."
What is it? Is the energy more accessible?
Today students and I went to the local cancer infusion center to share Reiki with patients, family members, and staff. I helped the students get started, then went around to assist. I placed my hands on the patients and the students. The rooms were cool, patients bundled up in blankets, nurses scurrying around.
I got so hot. I stopped and felt cooler immediately.
One student got super hot too. Her face was red and sweaty. She said, "I never get hot. I'm always cold. My hands are always cold. I'm hot now. So hot."
What is it? Is the energy more accessible?
City Hall
Sat outside City Hall for half an hour today. In a 10-minute zone. Reading my car manual.
I taught all day, Reiki, at the University. Wait, I have to go back to Friday. Car inspection on the last day of the month, squeaked it in. Wonderful mechanic noticed no stickers on my license plate. I thought I took care of the registration, a while back. Online. Yes. Registration in glove box, dated April. But it's July and no stickers. Where are the stickers?
I looked all through the car. Came home and looked in the several likely places. I vaguely remember them arriving in the mail, but it was raining, so set them down. Somewhere.
Today I taught all day, in Augusta. Back to Lewiston quick, before City Hall closes. Parked on a hill, in aforementioned 10-minute zone. Got the stickers, 50 cents. Back in the car it starts to rain. Then pour. I put in the key but can't turn it. Can't turn the steering wheel either.
So I sat in my car for half an hour reading the car manual. It directed me to press the STOP AND START button, but my car doesn't have one of those. So I emailed a friend, whose office was right across the street. I was embarrassed. Felt so stupid. First losing the stickers, and now stuck. In the rain. On a hill. In a zone. And just wanted to go home.
The police station was down the street, and many drove by. No one stopped to get me out of the 10-minute zone. I eyed passing males. Most looked sketchy. Scary. Inner city. I kept reading. Remembered my road-side assistance card, dialed the number.
Then I heard a text buzz in. Was friend. "Jiggle," he instructed. Jiggle the steering wheel while turning the key. I jiggled. Nothing. Jiggled some more. It worked!
When stuck in front of City Hall, on a hill, in the rain, in a zone: jiggle. When you haven't got a STOP AND START button: jiggle. When in a sticky situation: jiggle.
I taught all day, Reiki, at the University. Wait, I have to go back to Friday. Car inspection on the last day of the month, squeaked it in. Wonderful mechanic noticed no stickers on my license plate. I thought I took care of the registration, a while back. Online. Yes. Registration in glove box, dated April. But it's July and no stickers. Where are the stickers?
I looked all through the car. Came home and looked in the several likely places. I vaguely remember them arriving in the mail, but it was raining, so set them down. Somewhere.
Today I taught all day, in Augusta. Back to Lewiston quick, before City Hall closes. Parked on a hill, in aforementioned 10-minute zone. Got the stickers, 50 cents. Back in the car it starts to rain. Then pour. I put in the key but can't turn it. Can't turn the steering wheel either.
So I sat in my car for half an hour reading the car manual. It directed me to press the STOP AND START button, but my car doesn't have one of those. So I emailed a friend, whose office was right across the street. I was embarrassed. Felt so stupid. First losing the stickers, and now stuck. In the rain. On a hill. In a zone. And just wanted to go home.
The police station was down the street, and many drove by. No one stopped to get me out of the 10-minute zone. I eyed passing males. Most looked sketchy. Scary. Inner city. I kept reading. Remembered my road-side assistance card, dialed the number.
Then I heard a text buzz in. Was friend. "Jiggle," he instructed. Jiggle the steering wheel while turning the key. I jiggled. Nothing. Jiggled some more. It worked!
When stuck in front of City Hall, on a hill, in the rain, in a zone: jiggle. When you haven't got a STOP AND START button: jiggle. When in a sticky situation: jiggle.
July 29, 2016
July 27, 2016
fire
Shared Reiki with people with cancer yesterday and today, also Reiki Share last night. Felt so boiling hot. Like a flame inside, going up my spine.
My hands felt like fire ants. Not that I've ever felt fire ants. I haven't. My hands felt like what I imagine fire ants feel like. Moving pinpoints of fire.
Both days the room was comfortably cool. I was comfortably cool before and after the sessions.
Lately, Reiki has been fire.
My hands felt like fire ants. Not that I've ever felt fire ants. I haven't. My hands felt like what I imagine fire ants feel like. Moving pinpoints of fire.
Both days the room was comfortably cool. I was comfortably cool before and after the sessions.
Lately, Reiki has been fire.
July 24, 2016
Summer travels
Summer trips over; I'm home and back to work. Easing back to work. Teaching a hybrid class now, back full time in a few weeks.
I went from the SE tip of New Brunswick, Canada, to Santa Fe and Taos NM. I went to national parks, museums, mountains, canyons, beaches, and rock shops. I left my car with my son, talked to strangers, shared a bedroom with a stranger at Reiki conference, slept in a closet, slept on couches, slept in a Reiki room, hiked in the desert, hiked in the Wasatch Mountains, hiked along the rim of Bryce canyon, crossed the Continental Divide, meditated, chanted, and swam. I saw deer, antelope, elk, rabbits, cacti, cowboys, churches, mesas, buttes, and spires.
I went to Hopewell Rocks, Fundy National Park, a Reiki retreat in Massachusetts, Salt Lake City, Park City, Bryce Canyon, Monument Valley, Four Corners, Abiquiu, Santa Fe, Taos, and Chebeague Island. I went to the Red Butte Botanical Garden, Utah Natural History museum, a Mormon sculpture garden, Lake Powell, the Georgia O'Keeffe museum, the Cathedral Basilica of St Francis of Assisi, Museum of Contemporary Native Arts, the Nambe Trading Post, Taos Pueblo, the Kit Carson Home and Museum, the Governor Bent Home and Museum, and Taos Ski Valley. I went from sea level: Hopewell Rocks, NB, to 11,000 feet: Guardsman Pass, Utah.
I traveled by car, bus, plane, foot, and ferry. I spent time with family: sons, grandson, DsIL, and cousins. I spent the night in Logan Airport.
I talked with my grandmother through medium Marla in New Brunswick. I studied with Frans Stiene in Massachusetts, and shared Reiki with amazing women. I learned about insomnia, medical cannabis, medicinal herbs, and gut health at the U of NM Integrative Medicine Conference in Taos, and the poetry of Robert Lowell at the Chebeague Island Library.
I went from the SE tip of New Brunswick, Canada, to Santa Fe and Taos NM. I went to national parks, museums, mountains, canyons, beaches, and rock shops. I left my car with my son, talked to strangers, shared a bedroom with a stranger at Reiki conference, slept in a closet, slept on couches, slept in a Reiki room, hiked in the desert, hiked in the Wasatch Mountains, hiked along the rim of Bryce canyon, crossed the Continental Divide, meditated, chanted, and swam. I saw deer, antelope, elk, rabbits, cacti, cowboys, churches, mesas, buttes, and spires.
I went to Hopewell Rocks, Fundy National Park, a Reiki retreat in Massachusetts, Salt Lake City, Park City, Bryce Canyon, Monument Valley, Four Corners, Abiquiu, Santa Fe, Taos, and Chebeague Island. I went to the Red Butte Botanical Garden, Utah Natural History museum, a Mormon sculpture garden, Lake Powell, the Georgia O'Keeffe museum, the Cathedral Basilica of St Francis of Assisi, Museum of Contemporary Native Arts, the Nambe Trading Post, Taos Pueblo, the Kit Carson Home and Museum, the Governor Bent Home and Museum, and Taos Ski Valley. I went from sea level: Hopewell Rocks, NB, to 11,000 feet: Guardsman Pass, Utah.
I traveled by car, bus, plane, foot, and ferry. I spent time with family: sons, grandson, DsIL, and cousins. I spent the night in Logan Airport.
I talked with my grandmother through medium Marla in New Brunswick. I studied with Frans Stiene in Massachusetts, and shared Reiki with amazing women. I learned about insomnia, medical cannabis, medicinal herbs, and gut health at the U of NM Integrative Medicine Conference in Taos, and the poetry of Robert Lowell at the Chebeague Island Library.
July 19, 2016
boom
We did attunements at the pond yesterday.
It was quiet when we arrived, nine of us. A big frog sat on a lily pad. There were lots of lily pads, and a few white lilies. Warm, sunny, breezy, humid: quiet. The long lawns were freshly mowed, and hardly anyone walked by.
We sat. We meditated. Suddenly a whole family reunion of frogs boomed a symphony. Turtles approached and bobbed. Birds sang. We looked at each other in bewilderment and joy. We laughed.
We meditated, we attuned to Reiki.
It was quiet when we arrived, nine of us. A big frog sat on a lily pad. There were lots of lily pads, and a few white lilies. Warm, sunny, breezy, humid: quiet. The long lawns were freshly mowed, and hardly anyone walked by.
We sat. We meditated. Suddenly a whole family reunion of frogs boomed a symphony. Turtles approached and bobbed. Birds sang. We looked at each other in bewilderment and joy. We laughed.
We meditated, we attuned to Reiki.
trash
Jumped out of bed, it's trash day! Gathered up the kitchen and bathroom trash and rushed out to the garage. Stopped at the curb. Why did all the neighbors set out empty garbage cans? I stared, confused.
Oh. Overslept.
Oh. Overslept.
July 6, 2016
A lesson in releasing distractions
I wanted to meditate among the stones, but the path was narrow and bordered with signs saying, "Stay on path." Finally I found a relatively ordinary spot where the path turned and was wider. Ordinary doesn't really fit, as I was in Bryce Canyon, Utah, where there are a million gorgeous sights. Still, there were fabulous views all around, and I chose a spot with a rather regular view, considering the location.
I sat between the path and the sign.
I fixed my posture. I breathed. I found a focus point and softened my gaze. Breathed more. Felt myself relax, felt the stones. My hands pulsed with energy. Magnificent.
Then I heard:
"Hey! Look at her!"
"Quiet kids! That lady's having a spiritual moment. I said 'QUIET!''
"Look! She's meditating!"
"Ooh, what's she looking at?"
People gathered around me to see what I was looking at. They took pictures of my view. They took pictures of me.
It was time to move on.
I sat between the path and the sign.
I fixed my posture. I breathed. I found a focus point and softened my gaze. Breathed more. Felt myself relax, felt the stones. My hands pulsed with energy. Magnificent.
Then I heard:
"Hey! Look at her!"
"Quiet kids! That lady's having a spiritual moment. I said 'QUIET!''
"Look! She's meditating!"
"Ooh, what's she looking at?"
People gathered around me to see what I was looking at. They took pictures of my view. They took pictures of me.
It was time to move on.
